-Part One: Burnt Offerings-

Chapter One: Persona Non Grata

Fireday, Rova 14

What a mess!

I suppose I should start as I always do, although that's what got me into this mess. This time I shall encode my diary with one of the ciphers my family uses.

My name is Zana, and I am 19 years of age. I am a female of the race the humans call 'changelings' or sometimes 'doppelgangers'. My people are shapeshifters, and largely distrusted by humans. For this reason, we take on human forms when walking among them. Until recently, I was Thia the elf. Now I am in the form of a human (an actual human, not an elf or dwarf or other kind of human) and going by my own name for once. This was a mistake, but I was so rushed and panicked when I signed on to this caravan that the only name I could think of was my own.

I am getting ahead of myself.

For the past three months I have been traveling with an adventuring company led by a dwarf known as Kalen Ironhammer. My fellow party members were another dwarf, a human, and a type of human I had not seen before called an eladrin.
The dwarves and the eladrin were simple and easy to fool. The month I spent in the Elven camp learning their language served me well. But I apparently underestimated the human.

His name was Fenrik, and he was a paladin of a god I'm sure would hate me. I now know that he suspected me from the beginning, but he hid his suspicion well.

Tonight as I was just about to join my fellow adventurers for dinner, Fenrik asked to speak with me in his room. Failing to sense the trap, I followed him. He offered me a cup of tea and began asking me questions about where I was from and what my family was like. I raised the tea cup to my lips and responded with the made-up answers I had planned when first taking on this form.

At first I thought this had satisfied him. But then he pulled something out of his bag. A diary. MY diary. That lousy stinking paladin had gone through my belongings!

"It's odd that you say you're from the Mierani Forest," he said. "Because according to this you're from some place entirely different."

"You went through my stuff?" I asked, trying to distract him. "Are paladins even allowed to do that? I think you may be a terrible paladin."

"Silence!" he snapped. "I know what you are now, doppelganger. And I know that there are more of you, hiding underground, plotting to murder innocent people just as you were surely plotting to murder us!"

I sighed. The truth then, I thought. Maybe this paladin will be reasonable? "Alright, you've got me. I am a changeling, or a doppelganger if you prefer. But I swear I didn't have any intention of harming you or anyone else in this party."

"Don't waste your breath with lies, abomination. I know what you and your kind do."

I sighed again, and then frowned. "This tea tastes odd. Did you put something in it?"

Fenrik grinned wickedly. "What you taste is juice from the brain of a carrion crawler. Already it should have spread throughout your body, leaving you paralyzed." He stood and drew his scimitar.

"Wow. I'm flattered that you think my skills are so much better than yours that you'd have to cheat in order to kill me."

"Be quiet, and face your god," he said, and raised his sword over his head.

Paladins are powerful, being the direct conduit of the strength of a god. But they're also arrogant. They assume that because of their connection with their god they can never be wrong, that there can never be a possibility they didn't plan for.

Well of course I didn't drink the tea.

I leapt nimbly to the side as Fenrik swung his sword in a downward arc, neatly bisecting the chair. Better it than me.

As I drew my weapons Fenrik pulled his sword out from the remains of the chair, sputtering. "How-how did you resist-"

"You really think I'd trust tea from you? Although I didn't think paladins were even allowed to use poisons since it's not 'honorable'. You really are a terrible paladin."

I'd managed to get ten feet of distance from him, enough that he wouldn't immediately be able to take advantage of the longer reach of his weapon. I analyzed the strengths and weaknesses of each of us. Neither of us was in our armor, which would be more of a disadvantage for him than me. He was a lot stronger than me, which would make blocking hard, but I was a lot faster. If I stayed mobile I could keep him from being able to line up a good hit on me.

I had to kill him. He'd said there were more of us underground, which meant he'd read enough of my diary that he could extrapolate the location of the enclave from it. And I could not let humans find my family.

Once again I'd gotten myself into a mess that I wouldn't be able to clean up without blood.

Fenrik charged across the room much faster than I'd expected, his scimitar glowing with divine radiance. He caught me off guard and managed to score a solid slash across my torso before I got out of the way. I could feel the holy magic seeping into me, weakening me.

I hate paladins.

Offering a quick prayer to Norgorber I ducked under his guard to slash at his legs, barely managing to hit him in my weakened state. I back flipped away, narrowly avoiding his retaliatory strike, and found myself up against the wall.

The room was far too small to give me enough room to stay mobile. It was time to try a different tactic.

All of my people have some slight psionic powers, although most are too weak to do more than catch brief, unfocused images from a person's thoughts. There are a few among my family that are talented at it, however. My mother was one of them. And she'd taught me a few tricks while she was still alive.

If I know a name and a brief description, I can search someone's thoughts for memories of that person. A short glimpse of their face, or a whisper of their voice. It lasts for only a moment, but this has helped me more than once with improving my disguises.

I had a new plan. Fenrik was not the only one who goes through people's diaries.

I shapeshifted into the form of a man in his 50s, his face wrinkled and his eyes kind. "Fenrik," I said, my voice deep and gravelly, "this is not what Sarenrae teaches. We do not kill those who have done no harm."

"I will not fall for your tricks, abomination!" shouted Fenrik, but he seemed slightly off balance. I took the opportunity and darted past him, scoring a large gash across his thigh.

He recovered and turned, bringing his sword down in several overhead blows that I blocked with great difficulty. I leapt back and took the form of a young man, not much older than 15, with brown hair and blue eyes like Fenrik's.

"Father, I don't understand. Why are you trying to kill that woman? She has done nothing to you, and you taught me that killing is wrong."

"You will not use the shape of my son against me!" Fenrik made a vertical swipe at me, but his aim was off and I easily avoided it. I tossed my dagger into his shoulder, rolling behind him. When he pulled the dagger from his shoulder and turned, he saw the form I had been saving for last.

A beautiful human woman, her hair long, blond, and curly, her eyes bright and glistening with tears. She looked down at the cut on her torso, and then her eyes rose to meet Fenrik's.

"Fenrik…why? Why are you hurting me?"

"I…I…" Fenrik stuttered. The loss of blood was finally affecting him.

"Why didn't you protect me, Fenrik? Why did you let them hurt me? Why didn't you save me in time?"

"I tried, Sera," said Fenrik, his hands shaking. "I tried so hard…but I was too late. I killed all the ones that did this to you…but killing them didn't bring you back." His weapon fell from his hand, clattering on the floor, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I miss you, Fenrik."

"I've missed you too, Sera." He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, sobbing into my shoulder. "I'm so, so sorry."

"I forgive you," I whispered in his ear, and ran him through with my sword.

Fenrik's arms went slack around me, and I pulled my sword back out of him, blood splattering on my clothes. Fenrik fell to the floor, an odd look of peace upon his face.

I took a moment to catch my breath, and then started looking for something to bind the wound on my stomach.

There was no point in hiding the body. The best I could do was put it in a closet or under the bed, and people were sure to see all the blood on the floor anyway. It probably wouldn't be until the next morning, but my party would come looking for Fenrik and me eventually.

I picked up my diary from where Fenrik had set it on the table and tossed it in the fireplace, watching it burn. I'd been foolish again. I say paladins are arrogant, but so am I. I assumed that no human would be smart enough to suspect me. I must be more careful.

I quickly retrieved my armor and belongings from my room and went out the window. I had to leave Magnimar before the body was found. I needed to become someone else. Making sure no one was watching, I took on a new form - a human with pale skin, blond hair, and pale green eyes. Perhaps a little closer to my true form than it should be, but I was feeling homesick.

This new form would protect me temporarily, but my armor and gear would still be recognized by anybody in my party. I could hide out in the Temple of Norgorber, but the risk of a member of my family being there was too great. I had to leave town, and preferably with others to cover my escape.

I went to another tavern several blocks away and started looking at the postings on the job board. One stood out to me – a job escorting a merchant caravan to a small town called Sandpoint, due to leave in a few hours. I followed the instructions and found the merchant at the stables, quickly signing the contract without even reading it.

I have been writing this while waiting for the caravan to be ready to leave. The other adventurers who will also be guarding this caravan are here, and they are a fascinating bunch. I will write of them soon, but for now I must help ready the wagons to leave.

This can't possibly go any worse than last night.